AT THE TIME
by AwkwardAuburn2
Summary: At the time Hermes and Apollo think it's a great idea to accidentally-on-purpose trick Harry Potter and Percy Jackson into switching lives. Western Civilization is now crumbling to ashes. Go figure...
1. Athena's wrath

_**HI THIS IS MY FIRST FAN FICTION. READ, REVIEW AND ENJOY. MORE CHAPTERS TO COME :D. **_

_**P.S. I WOULD HAVE THOUGHT IT WAS OBVIOUS BUT...I AM NOT RICK RIORDAN OR JK ROWLING *GASP*. SO I OWN NO RIGHTS TO THIS STUFF WHATSOEVER **_

_**At the time..**_

Athena paced the golden tiles of the throne room. She stopped and buried her face in her hands. When she had calmed herself enough to speak she glared at Apollo and Hermes.

'Explain to me once more why Western Civilisation is crumbling to ashes?' she growled. Apollo stared guiltily at his frayed sandals, averting Athena's thunderous gaze. She turned her eyes accusingly to Hermes.

'Well?' she spat menacingly.

'It seemed like a good idea at the time,' he muttered, suddenly very interested in his winged converse. Athena walked around the beautifully ornate room and came to a halt a metre from the two gods. They were both taller than her, she standing at a mere 11 feet, but they cowered as her wrath towered above them.

'A good idea!?' her voice was almost silent, darkness seemed to tinge the very sky. 'A good idea?' the gods winced, 'I'm sorry Lord Hermes,' her voice dripped with sarcasm, 'In what universe are you living in that this passes as a good idea? You imbeciles! You have destroyed the gods! You...you unbalanced, foolish upstart!' she shrieked. 'Go to the crows.' With this she made a three fingered claw over her heart (a gesture for warding off evil) .

After ten minutes Athena took a deep, steadying breath and held Apollo's gaze with her enthralling grey eyes.

'Just remind me...why?' she asked shakily. Apollo dropped his gaze again, a faint smile playing on the edge of his lips but Hermes nudged him and he forced a straight face.

'Well...em...at the time Hermy and I thought it would be a good idea,' he corrected himself 'we thought it would be...an idea if we,' he muttered the next line very quickly through clenched teeth 'accidentally-on-purpose tricked Harry Potter and Percy Jackson into switching lives.' In the corner Aphrodite giggled and Dionysus smirked.

'And...at the time...it didn't occur to you that...perhaps the world might need the heroes of modern civilisation in their original lives?' she chided. They replied in unison,

'Not at the time, no.' Athena made a violent choking gesture with her hands, then collapsed into her throne.

'Great,' she sighed 'That's just great.'


	2. Title Winning

**OK THIS CHAPTER MIGHT BE SLIGHTLY CONFUSING AND MAY BE MOVING A LITTLE FAST. BUT BEAR WITH ME BECAUSE ANSWERS WILL COME IN THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS. READ REVIEW AND ENJOY!**

**OH YEAH, I ALMOST FORGOT. I DO NOT OWN PERCY OR HARRY, APPARENTLY KIDNAPPING THEM, DOESN'T GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO OWN THEM. ****, JK**

**Title Winning**

Percy stole silently through the unfamiliar neighbourhood.

He fingered Anaklusmos in his pocket. A sudden wave of panic washed over him. Something told him that this was the wrong place to be. He edged his way along the well worn road and manicured gardens and tried to remember the blur of yesterday.

The spirit if Delphi, tie-died sundress and all, had made a strange appearance in the campfire. Not metaphorically speaking. She physically appeared _in_ the campfire. When the fire had been quenched, thanks to Percy's 'Poseidonish' powers, she smiled in that, creepy, toothless, dead way of hers and rotated her head in a 360 degree turn to stare at him. She then spoke in a hacking, raspy shudder:

_Silvery glow of orbs up high,_

_Strategically placed to shame the sky,_

_Hero beneath veils of black shall weap,_

_For magic doth his power reap,_

_In darkness he seeths and grows in envy,_

_In the shadows are strongest heard his whispers._

He had no clue what it meant. The mist around the Mummy had then formed a sphere around Percy, burning him. When the mist cleared, it was morning and he was sitting at the end of this road with all the immaculate houses and tidy gardens. At his feet was a battered old compass with the word _guide_ written on it in Greek. After taking a few seconds to comprehend what had happened, he iris-messaged Camp. Chiron told him that he had been chosen to complete a quest *yippee*(not). The compass would direct him to where he needed to go. So here he was.

He tensed as a little girl ran, shrieking with happiness to her mother. She turned and waved. He smiled back but her mother cast a disapproving look in Percy's direction and led her away. Suddenly he heard a shrill voice screaming out of house number four's window.

'Harry!' shrieked a thin, long-knecked woman 'Harry!' She was looking at him, her keen eyes boring into Percy's, through her gaunt sockets. Percy turned around, expecting to see a Harry behind him when he glanced at a clean white board with the street name engraved on it.

'TITLE WINNING' he read. It seemed like a strange name, Percy realised that must not be it. He hated dyslexia! He squinted at the board again.

'LITTLE WHINGING-privet drive'


	3. Peter Johnson

**OK, SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN A WHILE. THIS CHAPTER IS FROM HARRY'S POINT OF VIEW. PLEASE READ, ENJOY AND **_**REVIEW! **_

**DISCLAIMER: I'VE RUN OUT OF FUNNY WAYS TO SAY I DON'T OWN HARRY OR PERCY ):**

Peter Johnson

'Ready, set, go! Harry closed his eyes and tried to picture every molecule of his being appearing on the other side of the thick, suspended, wooden hoop. With a faint pop, he felt as though he was being compressed and squeezed into a rubber tube. His chest, so tightly held by his own powers that he couldn't breathe. For a terrifying moment he was suffocating in the tight blackness, then he was free and he was staring through the hoop from the other side.

'Bloody hell Harry, you did it!' Ron shouted admiringly. His cheeks matched the bright, flaming colour of his hair, in the cold, biting wind.

'Well done, Harry.' Hermione praised, her hair, even bushier and wind-tossed than usual, 'Do that in the exam and you'll pass easily.' Harry looked at his two best friends. It meant so much to him that they had come out in the snow an hour before his exam to practise with him.

'All students wishing to take the apparition examination, please proceed to the shrieking shack.' Mcgonagall's magnified shrill voice rang through the stone halls and snow covered grounds. Harry's stomach tightened.

'Wish me luck..' he pleaded. Hermione hugged him,

'You'll be fine.' She whispered, 'Just remember the three Ds, destination, determination, deliberation.'

'Ok,' he muttered. 'Destination, determination, deliberation, destination, determination, deliberation. Got it.'

'You'll do fine mate!' Ron exclaimed. 'You're Harry freakin' Potter!' Harry blushed. 'Unless you do a Charlie and land on some old dear's head.' Hermione giggled.

'Come on..' she grabbed the boys by their sleeves and started to pull them towards Hogsmeade.

Twenty numbing minutes late they were shivering outside the three broomsticks waiting for Harry to be called.

'Potter, Harry! The small, grey-haired examiner called. Harry took a deep, steadying breath and realised his hands were shaking. The examiner looked around and spotted him. 'Ok Harry, nothing to worry about. Standard procedure, you disappear from here and appear at Honeydukes with all body parts intact. Points _will_ be deducted for misplacement and, or missing limbs/eyebrows.' He smiled and his playful eyes twinkled. His wiry frame and tousled hair didn't stop him from radiating an extraordinary aura of power. He moved his glasses further down his nose and looked Harry straight in the eye. 'Beware Mr Potter, go too far and you may not find your way back.' Harry was taken aback by the strange warning.

'The three Ds.' Hermione screamed, her face lost in the crowd. Harry readied himself and concentrated on Honeydukes, the sweet, enticing smell of freshly baked cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs. Suddenly, Harry couldn't breathe. The darkness and deafening silence were engulfing him. It was as though he was being forced through a pipe that could barely contain him and the only way out was forward. Through the bleakness a women's scream crept, blood red seeping through the black.

Suddenly Harry was standing bolt upright in a field of...strawberries? This wasn't Honeydukes. Harry groaned and perused his surroundings. It was...sunrise? Through the darkened dawn, a red sun rose.

'Welcome back, Peter Johnson.'


	4. Watching

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while. This chapter is set later in the story while Athena is waiting for the outcome of Herme's and Apollo's ignorance.**

**-I don't own Percy Jackson.**

_WATCHING-CHAPTER 4_

Athena regarded herself as a more important god. It was true that she didn't possess the strength wielded by the 'big three' or any visibly remarkable power compared to her siblings. Even Dionysus could turn his enemies (and unfortunate campers) into dolphins if he pleased to do so. Her sons and daughters were often underestimated or forgotten, falling under the shadows of measurable strength and force. However, the divine did not underestimate her. To do so would be a grave and perilous mistake, her mind was her weapon. She could break the will of a mortal as easily as if it were a mere brittle twig. She was a master of strategy and even strength must bow to wisdom when the situation demands. Ares was a fool who knew not of the true capacity of the mind, yet mortals turned to him in times of war and trouble. His weak will and selfish ways are easily overcome in a battle. She had won many a war through intelligence alone and her children were great threats to their adversaries, though this was not always carefully considered.

Athena considered all of this as her anger gradually ebbed away. Her rage had slowly evolved into inevitable desperation. She gazed upwards as thunderclouds approached overhead and formed into roughly hewn shapes as though Zeus could simply intimidate all his problems away. He was upset. He had been searching for a solution to the current disaster since it first began. It saddened her to say that she had had no better fortune in finding an answer.

She rose swiftly out of her simple throne. It was quite un-extraordinary compared to the elaborate seats of her siblings. Beside her, Ares' flame adorned throne and Artemis' chair which radiated a silvery light were but a few of the more extravagant contraptions. Out of many, the most disastrous of the gods' flaws is arrogance. She gazed across the room at one of her daughter's genius creations, a clear blue pool filled with deep icy water. If she wished she could will the surface to show her any scene from the mortal world. Many of her siblings found it a useless and undermining contraption but Athena knew of its true potential.

In one swift movement she glided across the pristine marble floor and to the edge of the water, where she dropped silently to her knees. She gently closed her eyes and removed a dark strand of hair from her face.

'Show me Percy Jackson.' She murmured.

The pool rippled and images began to form... a grey sky...silence...the calm before the storm. Looking out at the never ending ocean stood a darkened silhouette. She could barely make him out but the sun briefly broke through clouds before disappearing into the endless mist. When the light touched his face he turned and his sea green eyes met hers. He filled her with a new hope...

This was not the end.


	5. Albus Dumbledore

**HI. Sorry I haven't updated in awhile. I wasn't quite sure how to write this chapter. I wasn't sure whether I should make Percy lose his memory or something but I've figured it out now. I hope you enjoy. Read, ****_Review,_**** and enjoy!**

**In case you forgot from the last chaptrs, I don't own PJ or HP.**

I turned from the jumbled sign back to the frenzied woman lurking behind the window.

"Harry!" she screeched. Who was Harry? Suddenly I heard a faint pop from behind me. I turned brandishing my pen at the approaching figure. His appearance caused me to do a double take and trip over my shoelace.

He was tall and thin, clad in what looked to be an extremely ornate bathrobe. His half-moon spectacles had slid halfway down his crooked nose. Despite his unorthodox and slightly eccentric appearance he radiated an aura of power that was so strong it was almost tangible. His face broke into a crinkly smile that touched his eyes and he spread his hands as though embracing an old friend.

"Harry."His deep friendly voice rang through the silent neighbourhood. He seemed to be addressing somebody in my direction. My first thought was that a 'Harry' was wearing Annabeth's magical Yankee's cap and was going to appear behind me in a second. My second thought was that I was going insane (I haven't ruled that out in recent years because frankly, insanity would make a lot more sense than my life at the moment).

He continued towards me, I panicked, stumbled to my feet and uncapped riptide (my handy pen/lethal weapon). The approaching figure came to a halt and regarded me with a strange air. "Stay back." I warned in my not-so-confident-but-attempting-to-be-a-tough-guy voice. He then did something that surprised me: he took a stick out of the fold of his robes and pointed it straight at my chest. I wasn't quite sure what to make of this. He could be a crazy old man who thought he could take me on with a...stick, or he could be a monster with a fifty foot long staff disguised as a stick. I was hoping it was the former.

I didn't feel guilty about swinging at him. If he was mortal, the sword would pass right through him but if he was a monster it would reduce him to ash and send his essence to the pit of tartarus where it belonged. (Was that as morbid as it sounds?)

Except before I managed to connect the blow. He waved the stick and a flash of green light came bursting from the tip. The next thing I notice is that riptide is flying out of my hand and through the air. Damn. His eyes glinted furiously and his long silver beard billowed in the wind.

"Who are you?" He commanded. I felt compelled to answer but I kept my mouth shut. When I refused to answer he put his stick to my throat and forced me to lift up my head. This was strange. I hadn't considered death a lot before this. I had been lucky, always managing to just escape. Staring into this man's eyes was like staring into fate. My future seemed so uncertain. Whether or not I would see Annabeth again, watch her smile, hear her laugh. I think about all the other demigods who have died on quests, their passing has a new meaning now. He interrupted my meaningful epiphany with a threat "I am Albus Dumbledore, if you do not tell me who or what you are, you will taste the full extent of my wrath." I wasn't the smartest but I was pretty sure that his wrath wasn't going to be fun.

I took a deep breath "I am Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon. On a quest from camp Half-Blood...why do you have a stick?" It didn't sound as formal or intimidating as 'Dumbledore's speech but I was afraid that I'd say something stupid like 'you will eat the full extent of my wrath' or something. So I kept it simple.

Dumbledore looked like he'd been punched in the face "Camp-Half blood." He muttered and took his stick away from my chest. "Why are you here? The agreement states that the gods and their offspring stay in the West. Why would Chiron break the sacred promise..." I opened my mouth to speak but realised that he was talking to himself more than me. Maybe the picture of 'crazy old man with a stick' wasn't the wrong impression after all.

"Wait," I said, standing up "you know Chiron?" I was very confused.

"Yes, we met at the L.M.P conference a couple of decades ago?" He stated, still deep in thought.

"The L.P...what?" I stuttered

"The L.M.P, the Leaders of Magical People. Chiron was the head of Greek demigods."

"Are you a demigod? I asked tentatively, not wanting to get too friendly with this strange old man who seemed intent on either killing or helping me.

"In the literal sense...no." He stated, smiling slightly. He reminded me of Annabeth. He seemed to take pleasure in knowing things I didn't.

"What other sense is there?" I asked indignantly "Are you a demigod or not." It sounds kind of rude but 'Dumbledore' had an annoying habit of never giving a straight answer.

He smiled "Centuries ago Hecate fell in love with a mortal. He was Irish and she granted him one wish. He asked for her to grant him the powers of one of her sons or daughters. She complied and he became as powerful as a demigod. After a few years Hecate grew bored with him and moved on. He was heartbroken and fled to England where he fell in love with Brianna and they sired five children who then integrated with muggles. By the time four children -Godric, Rowena, Salazar and Helga- were born, the world was teeming with wizards and witches. The four children attained the power of their great, great, great, great, great Grandfather. They studied the art of magic and found out a way to concentrate their power by using special magical objects-wands." With this he tapped his stick, which I then realised was a wand. "They then set up a school for magical youngsters-Hogwarts-where I am currently working." He paused "I guess that's it. The history of our kind." I stared at him blankly.

"Um, Ok." I managed.

"But wait.." His face grew dark. "Where is Harry?"


	6. The Ghost King

**THIS IS FROM NICO'S POINT OF VIEW AND IT WILL NOT MAKE ANY SENSE UNTIL YOU READ THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS (UNLESS YOU'RE PSYCHIC...) THIS CHAPTER IS WRITTEN A LITTLE DIFFERENTLY TO THE OTHERS AND IS MY PREFERRED STYLE. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF IT. .ENJOY!**

THE GHOST KING

Between dreary souls and black hearts are those who live a bleak existence within the ragged walls of asphodel. The darkened mist seeps unnoticed through the blank wandering eyes that scour the midnight valleys. The candlelit flame which sparks the night is non-existent in this desolate wasteland. Through this pain I see the fear which inevitably follows confusion and I hear the haunting screams which pierce the silence...the endless silence...and whispering of the unforgiven, trying to see an end to the end. But how can they see an outcome to an already damned cause. As these visions flicker and I am uprooted from my haven and to this barren emptiness I stand. Though there is nobody here, the worthlessness surrounds me and it is as though I am trapped in a sea of nothing. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. In plain sight, but with nobody to see. Again, they tremble before my sight. Sense my fear, but not my fright. Why must tragedy defy reason? Cruelty defies my hand and it is as though I am running, enveloped in my own thoughts and pointless escape. Their eyes, my barren soul parts no pity for the souls that shine like jewels in a dying sun. Dwindling like the fire which nobody was prepared to love

. In a way..I am just as damned as them.

As I glide through the upset, I refuse to give to emotion. To feed the starved predator that claws at my heart. They are still screaming, when they realise. Defiance and refusal scars and blurs the reality until the conviction is non-belief and they fall prey to an endless slumber, gnawing at the last glimpses of life. Where is the light they see, through damaged grey eyes? Why do I see naught, but sleeping figures which stumble through death's impenetrable barrier in the night.

It is my curse to bear, to not amble through the lives of the living. Where are the stars that float aloft the inky sky, the orbs of light which eradicate the fear and give way to peace. Here the sky crumbles, for without the stars it implodes.

Then I see the dread...the fear, which wanders in the dark and casts its bleak shadow, to clutch at a black heart.

'Tremble before you master!' I pierce the silence with my whisper.

'Tremble before the ghost king.' My deep sword, moulded out of the sky of asphodel rings across the plane. I will prevail.


End file.
